Love is Just Another Word for 'Tragedy'
by Heaven0Leigh
Summary: Kinda like harlequin, but not.
1. SideA: Only Her

_Has it always been this hard to breathe? Has it always been so hard to cry? Should sadness be so numb? My chest feels heavy, but it doesn't hurt. How can one person… One act… One day… Is it really possible to… To feel so much about one person!? _

My life had always been so plain. Nothing fazed me, my parents moved to another country due to their jobs, so I went to live with my uncle and aunt in Tokyo. I transferred to a high school not ten minutes away from their place.

I had no problems fitting in, in fact, people flocked to me. They were boring, always wanting something. Life started to change from color to black and white. Everyone looked and acted the same. Everyone except my love interest, that is.

I met Kazuhina Hariku (surname/given name) after school in the library. She was reading, of course, but the way she read was fascinating. Her eyes went from playfully soft to seriously intense every few pages. She would give slight gasps every now and then. She had light brown hair that was neatly bobby pinned away from her face, the rest was short, but full. Her eyes were breathtaking, they were a brown that I had seen on so many people, but never had I found the color so… So _alluring_.

It was a month of watching every day before I got the chance to talk to her. It was so cliché too, our hands reached for the same book, softly touching. Her fingers twitched when mine skimmed them.

"Go ahead."

I couldn't see her face; only her ears, which to my surprise, were dusted a slight red. I swallowed, her mannerisms were so cute.

I reached up and grabbed the book off the shelf; carefully looking at her out the corner of my eye, judging whether or not she was going to run. I then slowly grabbed her hand and maneuvered it so that it was palm side up. She turned to look at me as I did so, her face growing darker. I placed the spine of the book in her hand and smiled.

"Here." I said, not as smoothly as I wanted. My voice honestly almost cracked. My heart thudded in my chest. _Geez, what am I, some school girl?_

"Th… Thank you." She smiled back. "Um, if you would like, I… We could… Read it together..?" She barely managed to get it out, her voice shrinking by every syllable. I studied her face, trying to get over my startled self.

"Yeah, that sounds cool."

I was happy, we arranged to meet again the next day. After that meeting, we set up another. And another after that. By the fifth time meeting in the library, we exchanged contact information. We texted every chance we got, drawn out phone calls went through most of the night.

I really felt high, like no one could touch me but her. It was as if we had our own palace in the clouds. It didn't take long for us to start seeing each other outside of the library.

Our first date was just a window-shopping spree. We eyed the colorful products, I learned quite a bit from it.

I remember looking at a cell phone strap. It was a sky blue star with pink, sparkly edges. I remember asking her if she liked it, she smiled and nodded. I offered to buy it for her, but she was the type to turn down anything and everything. I learned later that that particular shade of blue was her favorite.

Months went by, and soon we graduated high school. We applied to the local college, she studied art, while I chose economics. She was the most fascinating artist. She could whip out portraits faster than I had ever seen. We moved in together to save on money. Neither one of us minded.

The night I finally told her I loved her, we were at a family restaurant close to our apartment. She had ordered a small dinner- I don't remember what- and a huge piece of strawberry shortcake. She would always eat the strawberry last; she was so funny about her sweets. She would always turn it over and eat the bottom first, and then she would take her strawberry and scoop the frosting that stuck to the plate. She always had a blissful smile while she ate.

I had cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. I remember regretting that because they started to sweat.

"I love you."

Her beautiful features lit up.

"It's about time you realized it, silly." The harshness of the words she chose was drowned. She was giggling as she tried not to cry. Joy overtaking her fully.

That night, we made love for the first time.

Several months went by, living together was even more joyous- even though I never thought that could be possible.

It was a Saturday, class was out for me but not for her. I went out and looked at rings. She wasn't the type to like the fancy, expensive cuts; but I looked anyway. As I walked out of a jewelry store, I noticed a small shop. It reminded me of our first 'real' date, so I went in.

My eyes rested immediately on that phone strap. I smiled to myself and bought it.

My phone rang around three in the afternoon. I grinned when I saw 'Hariku' flash on the screen. I answered before the third ring could even sound.

She sounded so happy, she said she had something to tell me. We made plans to meet at the family restaurant I had professed my love at. I paced, five couldn't come any slower. I made the decision to go and wait there.

When I arrived, it was quarter to five.

I sat at the table we had shared that night, toying with the cellphone strap.

The screeching of car tires filled the air.

Screaming, running and various other forms of noise clashed.

It was like slow motion, my head turned to see blood all over the sidewalk.

_No.. No… NO!_

I bolted from the table, almost knocking a waitress over. The doors to the restaurant flung open as I pushed past them and the crowd that began to form.

I forced my way to the front, my knees hit pavement. I couldn't believe it.

The sight was horrible, I would have puked had I not of been filled with shock. Papers flew all around. One caught on my shirt, I shakily peeled it off and read it.

'_Kazuhina Hariku,' _was printed on the paper. My eyes searched the paper, only picking up on few but powerful words.

'_Pregnancy'_

'_Test'_

'_Proud to inform' _

'_Mother'_

'_Positive'_

It felt as if mine and everyone else's world shattered. I scrambled to my feet, I don't remember much after that. I remember my hand hurting, becoming wet and sticky. I remember being pulled back. I couldn't hear anything, I could barely see or breathe.

It's been three years. Everything and everyone reminds me of her. I dream of her every night, of she and I during the pregnancy, after the baby came. What the baby would be like, what she would look like at our wedding. Were we going to have a boy or girl? Would they call me 'Papa' and her 'Mama' in that special cute way kids do? What would it of been like, waking up with our child between us?

I still have the phone strap.

I've tried putting it away, throwing it away, or at least taking it off my phone. But every time I tried, it wouldn't be gone two minutes and I would be fumbling to find it; apologizing every time.

Every year I visit her gravesite with a gun.

I wanted to join her.

I wanted to see her.

I wanted to stop feeling like this.

No, I didn't _want_ it. I _needed _it.

This year… I write this.

This year… I shuffle down to her marker.

This year… I cock the gun.

This year… I kiss the phone strap.

This year…

Has it always been this hard to breathe? Has it always been so hard to cry? Should sadness be so numb? My chest feels heavy, but it doesn't hurt. How can one person… One act… One day… Is it really possible to… To feel so much about one person!?

This year… I see you again.


	2. SideB: Only Him

_I saw you. I saw you cry for me. I saw you fall apart for me. Is my memory that important to you? Why must you think such horrid things? I love you. You love me. You should know... That I want you to be happy. No matter what._

I first saw him out the window in school. He was participating in P.E., he had many people surrounding him. But even so, he looked unhappy.

The next time I saw him, he was in the library. I was engrossed in my book; but every time I looked up for any reason, I saw him looking out the window behind me. It took two weeks of repeated occurrences for me to figure out he wasn't enjoying the scenery.

I asked my friend about him. She said his name was Chitsu Sakota, a third year like myself. He had transferred only a short while back and he already had tons for followers. She warned me about getting close to him, rumors flew around that he was a 'playboy'. Who could have known the truth of the future?

A mere two weeks later, we had a direct encounter. By then, I had fallen into my interest and prayed something like this would happen. We brushed hands, reaching for a book. It sent butterflies to my stomach and what felt like tingling shocks all down my arm. I remember feeling so embarrassed that I could of swore I would die. I had turned my face from him so he couldn't see the inevitable heat scattered across my face. "Go ahead." I managed.

He moved and after a moment, I felt my hand being guided into a palm up position. He pressed the spine of the book into it and said "Here."

I turned to face him, he was flushed a deep red with a gentle smile. He must of wanted to look cool because he casually cast his gaze off to the side. He was cute, not only physically, but his personality was adorable.

I smiled back at him and thanked him shakily. I didn't want to stop talking to him just yet, and without thinking I blurted out a invitation to join me in reading the book. I could feel the initial confidence draining with every letter pronounced and I prepared myself for rejection.

"Yeah, that sounds cool."

I was happy. He seemed to be too. He was interesting, he always had something to say. He could turn anything into a comedy show. He had his serious times too, though.

We made arrangements to meet again. After around five meetings in the library, we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. We texted all the time, and the phone calls were endless. He was so cute and funny. He was kind, and at times, he was firm. He made me feel safe and warm inside. I had fallen deeper before I could realize.

He asked me to go on a date with him, we agreed to a window-shopping spree. We went into a store that sold small trinkets and snacks. A phone strap caught my eye. It was a sky blue star with sparkly pink edges. Sakota must have noticed my instinctual glances at the pretty object; because he asked me if not only I liked it, but if he could buy it for me. I rejected the offer, it felt wrong for him to buy me something. Even if that something was primarily comprised of my favorite color.

Months flew by, and we graduated high school. Both of us applied to a local college, I went for art and he for economics. He always liked watching me draw. He would always tilt his head off to the left, his chin resting on his knuckles. I had many portraits of him stashed away. He was so funny to watch. He had the dumbest looking sleeping face. I laugh every time I think about it. He was just too cute.

We moved into an apartment together to save money. It was a happy arrangement; we saw each other for breakfast and dinner, and lunch every now and again.

We went to a family run restaurant close to our place one night, he ordered something with a soda. I ate my food he picked at his and chewed on his straw. He was nervous about something. I moved on from my main dish to my beloved strawberry shortcake. Plucking the strawberry off the top, I placed it to the side and carefully flipped my cake. Eating from the bottom (now top) I ate all of the cake and ran my strawberry across the icing. He always liked watching me eat my cake. Sakota laughed and called me amazing when he first saw my cake eating habit.

I suddenly felt his hand on mine, he felt warm. Fever? Maybe just nerves? What was there to be nervous about?

"I love you."

My mind froze. I felt like happiness flew from me.

It's about time you realized it, silly." I giggled, trying not to cry.

That night, we made love for the first time.

Several months went by, it was like happiness overload.

It was a Saturday, I had a class but Sakota didn't. But, instead of going to class, I went to the doctor. I didn't want to worry him, so I just said I went to that class.

The test results were in, my doctor smiled at me and handed over papers. I was pregnant. Six weeks along.

I called Sakota around three. I couldn't wait to tell him. He picked up almost immediately, we agreed to meet at his 'confession place' at five.

I rushed over, papers in hand. It was ten til five.

I saw the restaurant, I saw Sakota inside. He was looking down, toying with something. I was just about to step onto the sidewalk when tired screeched.

The next thing I knew, I was in the air. I saw myself below, my top half sticking out from underneath a truck. A drunk man stumbling out of the drivers side. Sakota caught my eye, he fell to his knees. Papers flew all over, some soaking into the blood that covered the sidewalk. One piece hit Sakota in the chest. He peeled it off with an empty look. I wanted to go to him, to hug him, to talk to him. But my body wouldn't move. It was frozen in it's spot in the sky. His face went whiter than before and he got up, screaming at the driver. He violently beat into the man's face.

"Hariku! You! You bastard! Hariku was..! _My_ Hariku was pregnant! Damn you! Damn you! Just... Just die!" his punches landed with every word. Onlookers pulled him off of the drunk. He was crying. I felt a scream try and tear from my throat. My own tears falling. Sakota...

I have looked over him for three years. Every year, he went to my marker with a gun. I would whisper soothing words to his soul, trying everything I could to coax him out of it. I knew that I couldn't do much. He couldn't even really hear me. My most important person was in such pain. It hurt to see him. His stupid sleeping face no longer showed. He slept without movement, pain written all across his features.

I noticed the phone strap that dangled from his phone. Every now and then he would try to get rid of it, only to frantically search for it and put it back where it belonged, on his cell phone.

This year he started writing. He wrote our story, how we met, how much we loved each other, even how I died. It all fell into his final act.

He dejectedly walked to my grave that year. He kissed the phone strap after cocking his gun.

I turned away as his finger twitched on the trigger.

"I love you." He whispered. Birds that had nestled into nearby trees and bushes flew off, the echoing gunshot scaring them.

_I saw you. I saw you cry for me. I saw you fall apart for me. Is my memory that important to you? Why must you think such horrid things? I love you. You love me. You should know... That I want you to be happy. No matter what._

"Dummy."


End file.
